I no longer regularly read the New York Times op-ed columnist Maureen Dowd. I take no delight in her Pulitzer-winning nastiness, even when I applaud her target being skewered. For sheer vitriol, she has few rivals outside cable TV. So it was with schadenfreude that I read about her passing off an entire paragraph, almost verbatim, from Talking Points Memo blogger Joshua Marshall as her own and offering an explanation that further undermines her credibility.

New York Times columnist Gail Collins offers a unique view on women having it all

Being a drinker, having black ancestry or being a secret Catholic were more likely to end a political career in the early years of this country than being a cannibal or caught with a stripper in a compromising position. Gail Collins, New York Times columnist and Cincinnati native, provided the proof of this historical anomaly March 12 at the Cincinnati Woman's Club 16th annual National Speaker's Forum.

Editors generally avoid news and images of local suicides, reflecting our awareness of historic religious stigma and communal sense of shame that can burden survivors. Exceptions generally involve suicides where lots of people see the act and/or body, as when someone jumps from a downtown building or hangs himself in a school gym. Taboos continue to affect our discussion of suicide as a way to end an intolerable life or unbearable physical or emotional pain. This is most intense when a young person commits suicide.

Joe the Plumber is reporting about the Israeli-Hamas fight for the conservative web site pjtv.com. Sarah Palin again whines that she's a victim of news media sexism, class discrimination and accusations of diva-ness while getting her facts wrong. Again. I won't even get into the resurrection of Cincinnati's Ken Blackwell as candidate for RNC chairman except to say that he and 'Sarah Oh-Twelve' would be a Democrat's dream.

By the time this issue of CityBeat is published, the long and hard-fought presidential election will finally be over. Here are a couple of items to ponder as you're either celebrating or crying in your beer.